


Ding

by bluelilyrose



Category: The OC
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelilyrose/pseuds/bluelilyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Should I leave and come back?” he quips. When she's close enough, he slides his hands around her waist and gently pulls her forward until she's firmly pressed against him. He brushes his lips over hers once... twice before slanting his head and deepening the kiss. A tiny shiver runs through him when her nails rake across the back of his neck, something she knows he particularly loves. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ding

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place post-Season 4 and has been written especially for [The Porn Battle XV Challenge](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/65746.html) using the prompts 'cupcakes' and 'frantic'.
> 
> * * *

The sweet scent of vanilla fills his senses as Ryan lets himself into the apartment. Closing the door behind him, he sets down his briefcase before shrugging out of his suit jacket and loosening his tie. He heads towards the kitchen and finds her loading the dishwasher and he can't help but smile at the sight of her hips swaying in time to the cheesy pop song that's playing on the radio. 

“Hey.”

Taylor twirls to face him, a smile gracing her own features as she sees him leaning against the doorway looking deliciously handsome and dishevelled. “Hey. I wasn't expecting you home for another couple of hours.”

“Should I leave and come back?” he quips. When she's close enough, he slides his hands around her waist and gently pulls her forward until she's firmly pressed against him. He brushes his lips over hers once... twice before slanting his head and deepening the kiss. A tiny shiver runs through him when her nails rake across the back of his neck, something she knows he particularly loves. 

Slipping his fingers beneath Taylor's T-shirt, he caresses the silky smooth skin of her lower back; slowly inching his way higher until he arrives at the clasp of her bra which he swiftly pops open. The way she moans and gasps when he begins palming her breasts make his dick press even more painfully against his zipper. 

“God, Ryan...” 

Her slim fingers work on undoing his shirt until she becomes too impatient and pulls the sides apart so that the last two buttons clatter onto the tiled floor. It's not the first time that's happened and Ryan knows it won't be the last. There's something so fucking sexy about her impatience when it comes to getting him out of his clothes. 

As he removes his shirt and kicks off his shoes, his gaze is glued to Taylor as she pulls her T-shirt over her head, discards her bra and then unzips her skirt. Her hazel eyes meet his blue ones and she flashes him a naughty smile as she does this awesome shimmy type thing to work the garment down her hips and thighs. 

Within seconds, their clothes are scattered all over the floor and he's laying her down on the kitchen table. He kisses her until they're both panting for air and, once again, their gazes lock as he begins moving south. Cupping her breasts together, his tongue moves between her nipples, suckling the sensitive little nubs of flesh in turn, while the underside of his cock slides along the seam of her pussy. 

“Ryan... please,” Taylor begs, squeezing her inner thighs into his sides. One hand is gripping the edge of the table as she writhes beneath him while the other is splayed between his shoulder blades. 

“Please what?” he teases. His teeth graze one nipple and her body suddenly arches up into him. 

“Fuck me,” she tells him bluntly. She's never been one to beat around the bush and she knows it's one of the traits Ryan appreciates about her. 

He doesn't need any further encouragement than that and kissing his way upwards, he seals his mouth over hers as he enters her in one deep stroke. His knuckles are white from holding onto the edge of the table so hard. The heels of her bare feet are bouncing against his butt as he repeatedly withdraws and plunges back into her tight, wet heat and wanting her to come with him, he makes sure to grind the base of his cock against her clit on every down-stroke. 

Pushing up onto her elbows, Taylor captures Ryan's lips and sucks his tongue into her mouth. Her moans, which are already on the loud side, become louder still when he picks up the pace and practically jack-hammers his hips into her. Her fingers reach behind her head to join his in gripping the table's edge as she meets him thrust for thrust. Without warning, her orgasm suddenly hits and she screams his name; fireworks exploding behind her closed eyelids while white noise rushes through her ears.

Ryan isn't far behind and it only takes a couple more strokes for him to join her in the blissful aftermath of their frantic coupling. He buries his face in the nook between her neck and shoulder as he slowly comes back to reality. 

They lie there for several moments, the air conditioning cooling the fine sheen of sweat that glistens on both of their bodies while they each try to get their breathing back under control. 

Taylor laughs when a second later the oven timer dings and she, reluctantly, pushes at Ryan's shoulder for him to let her up. “I need to take the cupcakes out of the oven,” she tells him. 

He nibbles at her neck. “I don't mind if they're a little overdone.”

“I do,” she says, adding, “I promise I'll make it up to you later.”

Giving her an over-exaggerated sigh, Ryan moves and raises an eyebrow at the little hiss she releases when his semi-hard cock slides out of her. “Something wrong?” he asks, watching as she picks up his earlier discarded shirt and slips her arms through the sleeves before she crosses over to the oven. Mentally, he crosses his fingers that she's not about to start frosting the cupcakes. 

Removing the cakes from the muffin pan, she sets them onto a wire rack and then turns to face him; an amused twinkle in her eyes. “These need to cool for a while before I frost them... any suggestions as to what I can do while I wait?” she teases. 

His only response is the dirty smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

_Fin_


End file.
